I like being in charge. I like when I can control the variables around me. I like schedules and routines. I thrive when I have a plan. I am definitely a teacher at heart even if I am no longer in the classroom.
And then there was that time last week that I got sick – fever, chills, restricted breathing, prescriptions, the whole nine yards. My husband came home from work early to find me curled on the couch looking like I hadn’t slept in weeks. And just like that I had to relinquish control.
Despite feeling miserable the next morning, I still wanted to control every variable of food preparations and the morning preschool routine. How would Matt ever figure out what should be in Mark’s backpack and how to get two boys out the door on time? But you know what? Everyone got three meals, Mark made it to preschool on-time, Arthur took his nap, the kids had a blast playing with Matt, everyone went to bed exhausted at bedtime, and the world kept on turning.
I knew the whole time that Matt could handle it all. He has done this before and is an amazing father. Yet, it is so hard for me to fully give up things that are truly out of my control. Instead, I should have been focusing on what I could control – getting rest so my body could heal.
There are things in life that we cannot control. We shouldn’t be anxious and stress about them but rather hand them over to God. We can, however, control how we choose to respond to those things.
Five and a half years ago, I remember holding Isabelle in my arms and hating that I had absolutely no control over the circumstances. I spent months afterwards questioning if I could have done things differently and if that would have changed anything. After a while I realized that my time would be better spent looking at grief directly in the eye rather than wondering how I could have dodged it.
I can’t control what happened to Isabelle, but I can control how I move forward from it. In our family, that means incorporating Isabelle into our family traditions throughout the year. From birthday cakes to her Christmas stocking, her memory is very much alive in our house. As Christmas approaches, we will be celebrating the upcoming birth of Jesus with all the angels and saints in heaven, including our little St. Isabelle Clare. I cannot control that she is gone, but I can control how she is remembered.
